Whisper Something Warm
by hungry hobo
Summary: He can still feel her on his skin.
1. Chapter 1

Oliver catches sight of her first.

They're nestled in the corner of a cafe, leaning in towards each other. The man across her whispers something that causes her to rustle in laughter. Felicity tucks her hair back behind her ear and softly drums her fingers over his hands.

Oliver takes a moment to admire how pretty she looks with her curled hair framing her face when she notices him.

"Oliver?"

The man turns around and Oliver can't help but quickly assess him.

Strong jaw line, dark brown hair, and press ironed shirt neatly tucked in; he has a quiet demeanor and firm gaze.

Felicity doesn't get up but nervously introduce them.

"Um, Ed, this Oliver Queen... my boss."

She winces at the last two words but continues, "Oliver, this is Edward Raymond."

She's careful not to give whatever role he plays in her life, no title of friend or boyfriend. He gets no relief from the fact. It makes him strangely uncomfortable.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you", and stretches out a hand. Ed goes to meet the gesture when his pager goes off. He frowns and turns toward Felicity with a regretful face.

"I'm sorry, they need me down at the office. Vic finally came in. That guy, he always does what he wants."

Felicity smiles wryly. "Yeah, it's okay. Tell Sage I said hi."

"I'll call you," he leans down to kiss her cheek but brushes the side of her lips instead.

He doesn't notice, but Oliver watches as a tinge of red spreads across her cheeks. He doesn't like that.

They watch him exit in silence until they can't see him.

Tentatively, she is the first to speak.

"Do you want to sit...or are you busy?"

He pulls back the chair and settles down where Ed had just been. She fidgets in her seat, knowing what he'll ask.

"So who was that?"

Glancing at him for a second before reverting her gaze at the napkin she's started picking at, she wets her lips and swallows. His gaze is unnervingly intense.

"C'mon Felicity, at least I got a nervous my boss."

She laughs at that, an expression close to the one he'd found on her before she'd seen him.

Her face is clear of vibrant lipstick or eyeshadow.

"You're not wearing makeup", he blurts out unwittingly.

Suprised, she brings a finger to her lips. "Ha, yeah. I didn't want him to see me like that."

She breathes out a laugh. "Usually it's the other way around. "

It's strange. By now, she'd have rambled herself in a circle, but she was quiet and withdrawn.

His nails dig into the styrofoam of his cup. Knots grow in his throat at the thought of a man who had that effect on her.

His hands relax when he hears her start again.

"Ed... was my fiancée. "

Oliver jolts forward in surprise. She glances up from the table to him and gives a short, self derisive giggle.

"I know. We met while I was in college."

Head in her hands, she gazes out the window, face clouded in a fog of nostalgia.

"He was always chasing after something, and for a while, he chased after me."

Oliver's jaw clenches in something close to anger crossed with jealousy.

She doesn't notice and comtinues, "But he... got nervous. Distant. I think he was afraid that it would end for him like it did the first time. He was widowed and he had a son."

He slowly registers the information.

"You know, I would've done it. I would've moved to New York, walked Ronnie to school, have those family outings. Except, he pulled away and he wouldn't listen to me, wouldn't let me reassure him."

Her hair falls forward to curtain her face off from his view. He doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want the tugging feeling in his stomach, or the rock in his throat.

She whispers from under layers of blonde hair, "I guess it wasn't enough."

He can hear the silent word hidden beneath the fear.

I

I wasn't enough.

He holds her hand until their coffee grows cold and the cafe slowly empties out.

He drives her home, walks her to the door, looks at her red eyes.

She finally smiles at him. The moon is half full and it's past nine. She crinkles her nose and he notices a splash of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

She kisses him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Oliver."

The door shuts softly in front of him and he can still feel her on his skin.


	2. Chapter 2

His words breach her ribcage and strangle her heart.

He squeezes her hand and kisses her goodbye

...

Ed goes back to New York with a piece of her trailing behind. Oliver takes three more with him on a night out with Laurel.

Her mother calls one morning and takes a piece more.

Beneath Verdant, Felicity hits at her keyboard and tries to swallow the frustration that has been slowly growing on her. Her eyes melt into her computer screen, not seeing anything at all.

It's seems to her that she is doomed to always play the part of the heartbroken.

She flinches in surprise at the hand that suddenly grips her shoulder.

"Roy!"

He smiles wry and doesn't ask if she's okay. "You want to get out of here?"

She doesn't ask if he'll be ok. They don't look back at Verdant.

...

He takes her to an old arcade, a hidden jewel snug between a hardware store and chinese restaurant.

They spend two hours there shooting at invading aliens and speeding racecars off the road. By the time the sun begins to go down, she's laughing bright and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream. He's chosen two scoops of chocolate and makes a grab at her. She shrieks with laughter and he glues a piece of her back into place.

She drives him home and Roy shouts out good night.

Before he reaches the door she calls out.

"Thank you!"

He gives a small smile and goes in.

...


	3. Chapter 3

She takes a month off and returns dark hair and thin arms.

Smudges cling to her eyes and Felicity is tired. Las Vegas has left her drowning in echoes of neon lights. Melt your skin pink, chemical blue, highlighter yellow; each imprinted into her eyelids. Her mother leaves her ears buzzing and throat tight closed.

John takes her out to lunch and tell her she looks pretty with brown hair. She says she'll dye it back to blonde and stuffs the rest of her food down her throat and half wishes she'll choke, tries to push that knot in her throat down to her stomach.

Roy continues to take her to the arcade, and she starts smiling more. He makes her laugh, and that chips away at the ugly thing that makes it hard to swallow. She makes him smile with a storm of hand gestures and lousy sound effects.

Oliver can see her relax, whatever she'd brought back with her from Nevada slowly weakens its grip.

...

It's Thursday and two weeks since she's seen her mother, and her hair is still brown. She is close enough for him to feel her through his clothes. She smells nice. Oliver catches a strand of her hair between his fingers and she is too busy rambling to notice. He lets go and slides an inch away. She's sporting an easy smile and relaxed air.

"You look different brunette."

Sentence pressing pause on her chatter, she laughs.

"I should think so," and returns to a quiet downpour of words.

The next day he catches sight of her blonde ponytail back in place.

...

She takes up a class on parkour. She doesn't mention it.

Flames lick her muscles, and the first few days leave her burning. A month later, she's thinner and much more solid. Her skin shines softer and her calves are harder.

It relaxes her, make her feel less behind. She's catching up.

She still doesn't mention it

...


	4. Chapter 4

They become close.

It becomes apparent that Felicity Smoak is the door to the world Oliver Queen has so selfishly hidden from her.

Laurel can't help but like her. She is vibrant colors and joyful youth, rambles her into a soft comfort of belonging. Purple nails and a tug on her arm and she leads her into a fold of friendship.

...

Laurel Lance is anything but blind.

It is painfully obvious. His warm gazes, possessively grasping her at any chance; Oliver Queen is smitten with one Felicity Smoak.

But he is difficult. A rubiks cube that continuosly changes, making it harsh and misleading on Felicity.

She confronts him, because in a way she is also rather enchanted with her.

"Why do you do that?"

Oliver turns amicably, raises an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"You push her away but as soon as she turns her attention away from you, you're all over her..."

"Are you talking about Felicity? We're just...partners. Friends. Anyways, isnt't it your lunch break?"

He gives her his back and it's all she'll get out of him. She sighs, pushes the breath out of her chest and leaves.

...

Felicity takes Laurel to Central city and they talk. Laurel tells her about Oliver and Tommy. Felicity tells her about Barry, Ed, and a boy she used to know. They bond over red wine and chinese take out, trading stories of law school for casino escapades. Felicity becomes the friend she never had and Laurel becomes the parnter she briefly found in Sarah.

It becomes a bit more menacing for the three men in the lair.


	5. Chapter 5

Laughter bubbles up her throat and evaporates around her. Insecurities strangle her skin, blind her, numbs everything but her dissatisfaction.

Conversations with her mother clamp her to past she's tried so hard to leave behind. But traces litter her surroundings.

She thinks he'd understand. Six feet of muscles and scars as proof, Oliver drags an island and half a decade of pain over concrete, past steel like a mule. He smiles at her and her bright colors.

Felicity thinks it through twice and finds it best to keep quiet. She says good night and flips the lights off.

...

He feels guilty, but Roy is glad they have so much in common.

It takes him fourteen trips to the arcade, three tubs of mint chocolate ice cream, and one superb bottle of wine to get her to really open up. The pages begin to flip and he gets her story.

They both have a lifetime of eating nightmares, shared memories of gritting teeth, and too many times hitting microwaves. Cold dinners haunt their tongues.

She was seven when her father said goodbye in a wrinkled suit. He left her on a street curb, hands cupped and brimming with blueberries. The heavy sun melts them down her white dress. She goes home stained blue and heart hungry.

His last memory of his mother is in a decaying halfway home. The first and last time he'd seen her in three years. Sporting a new red hoodie, he left her, bleeding disappointment and contempt. The night found him drowning in salt.

It is a Friday night and they toast to absent parents and abondenment issues. They shout all the way home, drunk and jumping.

Laughter bubbles up her throat and explodes all around her.


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver finds her twirling.

Their underground world revolves and spins and whirls around her. She stops and tumbles straight into his grasp. It's too easy how he can pick her up like nothing. Felicity tucks loose strands of hair back and spews words at him.

She can't focus on him. She wishes that it would stay that way.

He falls into focus, and she can't get it right. She tries to blink back the comment she's made on his strong, strong arms. His ears have already swallowed her admiration, he half admits he likes the pink glow she's shining.

...

Felicity washes up on his mind more than twice. She's wrapped up in the smell of hazel and coffee, and he finds himself on the fence, her scent tugging at his arm. His fingers start to bleed and the metal digs into his palms. The wind kicks up and rushes at him. The wires shake.

He loses his balance and kisses her.

...

He leaves her glasses askew. She brings him closer, pushes herself up, kisses him over and over again. Soft, plush, warm, and pliant, she crashes down on every last of his senses. His ears start to blare and he wakes up. Oliver's stomach drops, and his lungs deflate.

Bitter, he fills his mouth with sugar for breakfast.

Felicity leaves for Central City after reading him his schedule.


	7. Chapter 7

Because life is repetitive, her love is unrequited all over again.

...

Felicity can't make her feet move.

It's been three months and she can't wait for a boy she hardly knows.

Life isn't a romantic comedy and if he ever wakes up, it won't be for her. Iris waves her goodbye.

...

John serves her coffee, and she babbles over pastries. His voice wipes code and numbers from her eyes. The heat from her coffee coats echoes of her keyboard and whispers warmth into her skin. John tells her stories. "Don't you have a story to tell?"

Felicity drinks and fills her chest.

"Maybe..."

...

Laurel takes her out dancing and drowns her in alcohol. Eyes glazed, her view weaves the room into a patchwork of strobe lights and flailing limbs. He is handsome but too close, chokes her with cologne. Uncomfortable, touching her, Laurel tries to pry him off her but fails. Arms to weak, legs like jelly, he can pull her along like air.

Gears shift and common sense kicks in. Six inches of black heels as a boost, she swings up between his legs and leaves him a slump on the floor.

The boy sitting next to her is laughing and calling out to the bouncers. He strikes up conversation and asks her out. Date scheduled for tomorrow, he kisses her goodnight.

Felicity doesn't catch Laurel smiling or dialing a certain billionare to taunt and tattle to.

She swoons over twinkling baby blues and ignores the sulking giant on the other side of glass.


	8. Chapter 8

She goes to Rhode Island for ringing bells and the wedding of a friend from M.I.T.

It's Lucas "Snapper" Carr and beautiful Bethany Lee. She calls her Lissie and asks her if she's still in Manhattan. Her dress is white and full, fabric and pearls bunched at her hip. Faint jealousy and nostalgia covers her eyes.

"No. No, I'm in Starling City now..."

Beautiful Bethany Lee grabs her hands and they exchange years. Lace gloves carve patterns on her hands.

...

The reception is dancing and smiles, throwing embarrassing vignettes and fond memories across the floor. She dances her feet sore and stretches her lips wide. A little flower girl spins her into a fit of giggles and they throw petals up up up into the night.

...

Felicity goes back to Manhattan. The city is steel and concrete and Edward Raymond. They have lunch and dinner together for her week there.

His eyes are a storm of articles and ink and words. At one point he grabs her hand, and she grabs his back. She is nineteen and smitten all over again. Fifteen years older with little to none experience more than her, he kisses her Thursday at a quarter to four.

Ed Raymond leaves ink smudges on her crisp pink blouse.

She leaves love marks and lipstick across his face and down his neck.

...

She gets a month with him through phone calls and letters (he's old fashioned) before it ends in splintered wood and fire.

Felicity gets the call at night, while guiding an archer through traffic laced streets.

She skips work and loses Ed Raymond for a second time.

...

Oliver breaks her door down right before Roy finds her spare key under a rock.

The carpet is littered with empty wine bottles. She's sleeping sprawled over the kitchen counter.

She rustles awake to a touch from Roy. Half naked, lace peeking from a half buttoned shirt, and one sock donned on she's to grief stricken to blush.

Ash holding her heart, she wails. "It doesn't smell like him! I can't find him here! I can't, I can't..."

Roy gathers her in his arms because she reaches for him. Oliver goes to fix her door.

...

The sky melts orange into pink. Felicity melts blond into brown. She gets rid of it, tries to go back. Dyeing her back is the closest she gets.

His funeral is a small box of dust and Ronnie hides in her embrace because he only has two people and old photographs left. His grandfather takes them to an old diner and orders for them. The food tastes like cardboard and wallows down her throat.

...

It's one thing to forget, but to move on is another matter completely. Felicity has never been to good at either.

She speaks less, draws in. The staring stops and Oliver doesn't know what to do.

Laurel does. So does Roy.

Roy takes a tub of ice cream and two spoons down to the park. He makes her sit down next to him and lets the night buzz and flicker. A canopy of dark and fluorescent lights sing. It makes it easier for her to fall asleep.

He carries her back home.

Laurel plays with her hair. Braids it, ties it, curls it. Her fingers draw Felicity into a sense of calm she always seems to lose a grasp on. She thinks this must be what it feels like to have siblings.

...

John takes her to a shooting range. She is unexpectedly good.


End file.
